


welcome to our little corner of the world

by GlitterDwarf



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: M/M, started out annoyed by everything richard did now we here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-15 16:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9246935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterDwarf/pseuds/GlitterDwarf
Summary: Erlich’s dormmate’s BFF is really fucking annoying. And then he’s really fucking amazing, and then he’s really fucking everything Erlich has ever wanted in life. Fucker. Love in four seasons and four conversations.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bitterowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterowl/gifts).



> I had so! Much! Fun!! writing this for you. I haven't written Errich before now and it was really, really time to do so. I hope that you enjoy it!
> 
> Also, holla @ hackerhostel for posting what would become the rough outline of this fic: “Concept: College AU, Richard & Erlich laying on the floor in Erlich’s dorm room, listening to Yo La Tengo & being in love.“

**Fall, 2007.**

Erlich was being fucking _tested_ when he truly, honestly, did not deserve it. He had already made the _enormously_ selfless decision to still live in the student dorms as a junior, even when most people his age had moved on to off-campus housing. But no, unlike those selfish dicks–who were probably enjoying hanging photos on walls with actual thumbtacks instead of tape, drinking alcohol that wasn’t artfully hidden in vases and water bottles, and enjoying each other’s douchey company–Erlich had decided that he had so much to give back to the world, and that he should stay and impart his wisdom to the freshmen.

The fact that he couldn’t find anybody who would agree to live with him off-campus was irrelevant; this was about being _charitable_.

And yet, even after all of this sacrifice, his roommate Nelson was pushing his goddamn buttons.

"Nelson," Erlich said as evenly as he could. "Who is that?"

"Hmm?" Nelson looked over his shoulder at the stranger currently sitting on their futon, as if he hadn't even noticed that person existed at all until Erlich pointed it out (not completely impossible; that boy was the very definition of "absent-minded.") "Oh, that's my friend Richard."

"Uh, hi," the other boy--Richard, apparently--said. He got up slowly and shuffled over to Erlich, then reached out his hand. Erlich noted with disdain that his hand was covered with Cheeto remnants, the tips of his fingers even stained a bit orange. Richard noticed and quickly withdrew his hand and shoved it into the pocket on his hoodie. Maybe Erlich was just imagining it, but he could swear that a tiny, orange cloud of dust erupted from the pocket. "I'm, uh, Richard. But I guess you already knew that."

"Charmed," Erlich said slowly, only barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes and douse himself in hand sanitizer. His pores were probably _completely_ clogged with Cheeto dust now, and that new cleanser he got was too expensive to waste on cleanup after brushes with the unwashed masses. He turned his attention back to Nelson, completely ignoring this Richard character. "Nelson, do you remember what the roommate agreement said?"

"Uh, yeah. Wait." A pause. "No. Not really." Jesus, was he always high?

"Our roommate agreement clearly states that all visitors must be cleared by me. I'm working on some top-level app shit and I don't want any unknowns distracting me or _worse_."

Erlich cast a weary eye at Richard, who looked somewhere between scared and indignant. For his part, Nelson just laughed and shook his head.

"But he isn't unknown anymore. Now you know him. It's fine!" Nelson smiled brightly first at Erlich, then took Richard by the elbow and led him to his own room.

"Uh, Bighead..." Erlich heard Richard say as they walked away. He snorted, and filed that nickname away; it suited his roommate, almost as much as his own Kool-Aid moniker suit him. Much like the Kool-Aid man, Erlich certainly did bring the fun and excitement.

The dorm room finally quiet, he settled in and opened up his files. Besides apparently needing to draw up a sign-in sheet for that hopeless drifter-looking Richard to use, iAviate wasn't going to code itself.

 

———————————————

 

**Winter, 2007.**

Erlich closed his laptop, rubbed his palms over his eyes and groaned; the perk of spending winter break without roommates or a job and on a mostly-empty campus (much harder to find a party, naturally) was being able to code for 18 hours straight, although that was starting to feel like more of a weakness. He leaned back against the couch and savored the _pop_ in his sore back. After a few minutes of blissful silence, he finally, slowly, stood up from the couch and wandered to the kitchen to look for something to soothe the rumbling in his stomach.

Except the refrigerator was empty. _Fuck_.

And the convenience store in the dorms was closed during the holiday. _Double fuck_.

And it was, apparently, 11:30 at night, so everything else was closed by now as well. _Triple fuck_.

Erlich let out a slow whine and rubbed his stomach, which by now was starting to stage a mutiny against him. Finally, he decided that he should just walk to the Denny’s; even though it was a few miles away, it was pretty much his only choice.

He had barely made it out of the dorms and down one of the pathways before he saw another figure walking alone in the dark. He watched as the figure noticed him, and then changed directions and started to walk toward him at a quicker pace. With a start, Erlich grabbed for the mace on his keychain and raised it in his hand at his would-be attacker. The figure abruptly stopped and raised its own hands in front of its face, then called out to him.

“Erlich, what the fuck?!”

“What the fuck _yourself_ , buddy,” Erlich responded. “Also, who are you?”

The figure lowered the hood from his sweatshirt and, _ah_ , it was that Richard kid. Erlich sighed and lowered his mace, at least for now.

“Oh, it’s you.”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Richard mumbled. He had finally gotten close enough to Erlich that he no longer had to strain to discern facial features, and could now take in his annoying, roommate-and-could-have-been-a-potential-friend-attention-stealing, Cheeto-eating, Muppet-like features in all their glory. “So I guess you’re the only other person who didn’t go home for the Holidays, huh?”

“I guess I am,” Erlich said. “What are you doing walking around?”

Richard bristled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “What are _you_ doing walking around?”

“I asked you first, Richey.”

The other boy sighed, made a weird noise, and then answered.

“I don’t know, dude, it’s fucking lonely and all of the characters on my computer screen were blurring together and I was making mistakes in coding fucking _Java_ so I figured that was a sign to take a break and get some fresh air.”

Erlich stared at him, probably a little too intensely. “Wait, you code?”

“Yeah,” Richard said slowly. “That’s why we’re all in the same dorm building. We’re all CS majors.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you lived in the same building.”

It was Richard’s turn to stare. “You walk past my room every morning. I always say hi and wave to you. You _wave back_.”

“Well sure, it’s only polite to wave if somebody waves at you. That's just good networking,” Erlich said. “It’s not my fault if you look like every other freshman; you all have the same hoodie and the same haircut.”

Annoyance swept over Richard’s face and he opened his mouth to retort, but then he closed it and his face twisted in a funny way. If Erlich didn’t know better, he might suspect that Richard was smiling. The reason why became obvious when, to his right, a group of three boys walked by, all wearing hoodies and with that same Zuckerberg-slash-Jesse-Eisenberg-inspired haircut.

“Touché," Richard said and then added, quieter but still smiling, “you're such an asshole.”

Erlich _did_ smile, because people never called him an asshole to his face. He weighed his options (namely: do I want to be alone for the next two weeks, or do I want to survive?) and then he started walking toward the student parking lot adjacent to their building.

“Well, come on, Richard. Aren’t you going to drive me to Denny’s? We can talk about your coding project.”

“Oh,” Richard breathed quietly, and then he hobbled forward awkwardly in an effort to catch up, like the overgrown baby horse that he was. “Okay. Are you going to tell me about _your_ coding project?”

“ _Fuck_ no, you goddamn idiot. You don't have the right level of security clearance.”

 

———————————————

 

**Spring, 2008.**

Midterms. Motherfucking _midterms._ Jesus fucking Christ pole dancing to Madonna in a glitter Speedo _, midterms._

Erlich stopped, then snorted to himself. Richard would like that image; he would think it was funny. Richard always liked his jokes and just kind of _got_ Erlich, which is why Erlich put up with his dopey shit. He should text that to Richard.

Thirty seconds after doing just that, he got a response:

 

**Richard:  
LMAO he would be dancing to Ray of Holy Light.**

 

Erlich genuinely laughed out loud (rare) and smiled at his phone.

 

**Erlich:  
Can you still come over?**

 

The bubble appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared again.

 

**Richard:  
Maybe…**

 

Erlich frowned. “Motherfucker,” he hissed.

“Everything okay?” Nelson called from the other side of the room. Erlich nearly jumped off his own bed; he forgot that Bighead was even in here.

“Yeah, just-“

“Richard isn’t coming over?”

Erlich narrowed his eyes at his roommate. “How did you know?”

“That’s the only thing you get mad at anymore,” Bighead said with way too big of a smile. Erlich scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“That’s not true; I get mad at a lot of things. Like inefficiency. Small-thinkers. People who eat crunchy food in the library. The Soulja Boy dance. It just makes no _sense_ ; that isn’t how Superman flies.”

Nelson laughed, got up from his bed, walked over and gently clapped his hand on Erlich’s shoulder. “It’s okay; I think he’s good for you.”

Erlich slapped the offending hand off of his shoulder. 

“What in the fuck are you trying to say?”

“Nothing,” Nelson said slowly, now looking a little meeker. “Just that he, I don’t know. Calms you down a little.”

Erlich frowned and made a dismissive noise.

“I don’t know why you think I need to ‘calm down.’ In fact, I have very _good_ reasons for getting frustrated, which you would know if you read my blog. In fact,” Erlich paused and grabbed his laptop. “If you wait a moment, I’ll read you the very post that will explain why I’m getting mad now-“

There was a knock on their door, so Bighead took the opportunity to run off to answer it, chuckling the whole way like an asshole. Erlich looked down at his phone and saw the texts he had missed when Nelson was so _rudely_ intruding on his life.

 

**Richard:  
LMAO just kidding.**

 

**Richard:  
I’ll be there in five minutes.**

 

**Richard:  
Same me some Greek Yogurt :)))**

 

What a stupid, adorable, stupid man. Who had, of course, suddenly appeared in his doorway, with a grinning Bighead standing behind him and watching the two of them far, _far_ too intently.

“Hey,” Richard said, bouncing up and down on his heels. He threw a bag of tortilla chips at Erlich, who handily caught them. “I brought over studying snacks.”

Nelson practically had little cartoon hearts in his eyes, which was very disconcerting. Erlich gave him a quizzical look, then shifted his attention to Richard, who had flopped down on Erlich’s bed, legs dangling over the edge. A sliver of his skinny, weird, not-at-all nice-and-enticing-looking stomach was exposed by this action, which was definitely, in no way distracting to Erlich.

“Good, I need energy,” Erlich mumbled while he picked up the bag of chips. “Midterms are a goddamn bitch of a time.” 

“Yeah,” Richard said quietly. “Something like that.”

“Richard isn’t stressed,” Nelson called out. Erlich was startled, but tried not to show it; he had honestly forgotten that his roommate was still there. “Because he’s kind of a genius? He’s had his programming work done for weeks and right now he’s just working on his own projects.”

“What the fuck?” Erlich shouted. His hands, which were opening the bag of chips, pulled a _lot_ stronger than he had meant to, and the tortilla chips were suddenly strewn around his bed, the floor, and some even comically landed in Richard’s hair. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

Richard looked scared for the first time in for-fucking-ever, and Erlich almost felt bad. He knew better by now, knew that Richard could get real jumpy sometimes and needed to be handled a little carefully and slowly. For the first time in months he was reminded of the first time he met Richard and the look in his eyes, like he was about to be hurt in some way, so Erlich backed down immediately with a wince. “No, I just…I mean, that’s great. For you. And now I understand why you would be able to, you know, spend so much time doing whatever the fuck you want, I guess.”

His friend now looked less scared, a little softer around the edges, more apologetic. “Sorry, Erlich, I just…I know you’re working hard, and I didn’t want you to feel weird.”

“Too late,” Erlich said with a smirk. He looked up and saw that Nelson had made himself scarce, which was probably for the best; Erlich and vulnerability didn’t work out well for anyone, at least anyone besides Richard. “It’s okay. I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me, though. You know I’ve been stuck on debugging iAviate for weeks and apparently you could just do some magic Richard coding and fix all of it.”

Richard smiled, but he was still looking a little uncomfortable. Erlich swore internally; how could he fuck this up already? He had barely gotten there and Erlich had, of course, already scared the shit out of him. _Fuck_.

“Okay, I need a break,” Erlich finally said. He was _going_ to salvage this, he _was_. “I’m stressed as shit. Do you want to do anything? I can’t de-stress without weed or sex, and my dealer for both is out of town.”

Richard cracked a smile at this, finally, and Erlich’s heart contracted in his chest at the sight. “Sure, there’s this thing I do sometimes, but it’s probably, uh, weird? I don’t know, you might not like it.”

“Hey, as long as it’s not a circle jerk, I’m down,” Erlich responded with a wink. His friend chuckled, and Erlich didn’t miss the reddened state of his neck when he moved to get up. He closed Erlich’s door (maybe it _was_ a circle jerk?) and then went to Erlich's iPod speaker, put his own in and put on a playlist of that kind of scene-adjacent, mostly-acoustic and twee music that Richard liked way too much. He was obviously a MySpace scene kid, and Erlich _needed_ to see those pictures. He definitely wouldn't print them out and look at them sometimes. Maybe.

“Nothing weird, but I just like to listen to music in the dark, and lay on the ground.”

“Sounds almost like how you might start a circle jerk,” Erlich pointed out just to see if Richard’s blush would go all the way to the tips of his ears; it _did_ , which was just way too precious. He only had a few seconds to enjoy this sight before the lights turned out. A few moments later he felt Richard’s hand grab his and guide him to the ground, where they laid down side-by-side. For a long while they were silent; the only sounds in the room were the tinny sounds of Richard’s music playing through his shitty speakers, and the sound of their breathing, which eventually matched each other and evened out to a slow, methodical rhythm. Erlich wasn’t sure if it was the music, the company or just his exhaustion, but it really _was_ soothing.

One of the songs that played was a little sappy for his taste, but he couldn’t help but enjoy it. For some reason lyrics about two people in their own little corner of the world didn’t seem so goddamn cheesy, they just felt _good_ and _right_. During the musical interlude, Erlich stretched his fingers out until they found Richard’s. It was a little scary, but very satisfying when Richard’s fingers interlaced with his own and squeezed.

It was a little ridiculous, honestly, how good it could feel to hold hands with somebody, even an idiot like Richard. He thought that the other boy’s palm would be clammy, sweaty, but instead it was just warm, and kind of nice. His eyes had adjusted to the dimness and he could now make out Richard’s features in the darkness. There was the strong slope of his nose, which had been the topic of many of Erlich’s teasings but at the moment just looked like strong, good geometry. His hair was a little unruly, but it suited him. He appreciated the subtle movement of Richard’s chest, the slow up-and-down, as he breathed, and he wondered what it would be like to press a palm there and really _feel_ his breath. His gaze moved to the long curve of neck. Erlich thought about how it had looked not so long ago, flushed, and wondered what that heat would feel like against his lips.

He shuffled, slowly, until he really _could_ just lean over and press his lips to Richard’s neck, and then he did it, quick and dry. Richard just made a pleased noise and shifted slightly, ever-so-slightly, to give Erlich more access. Erlich took advantage of this really nice change of pace and left several hot, only slightly-wet kisses to Richard’s long, really fucking attractive neck. He kissed his way up to Richard’s ear, and then he whispered gently against it, “I knew this was going to be a circle jerk thing.”

Richard laughed and shifted until they were spooning, never letting go of Erlich’s hand. When they settled Richard was nestled in close, his back to Erlich's chest, their hands entwined on Richard's chest.

“Shut the fuck up; this song is really good.”

And really, what could you say to that? So Erlich did, and the song really _was_ good.

 

———————————————

 

 **Summer, 2008.**  

“What in motherfucking _fuck_?!” Erlich shouted into the way-too-empty room. He read over the note left on his desk once again, not that he needed to; the words were already seared into his brain: “ **sorry to leave like this. it’s just too sad to see you. i hope you like this mix cd though. maybe i’ll see you next year.** ”

That motherfucker was trying to leave without saying goodbye.

That _motherfucker_.

What a goddamn stupid fucking _shit_ of a person, seriously.

“Fuck!” Erlich shouted as he snapped the CD in half. _Great!_ Now he couldn’t even listen to Richard’s music when he would be crying all summer, thinking about what could have been.

His feet vibrated with nervous energy. It couldn’t end like this; they hadn’t even _begun_ yet. He wanted to wait until he had finished iAviate, until he had really _earned_ somebody like stupid fucking Richard Hendricks, but it was apparently too late.

No. _No_. Fuck that! He was Erlich fucking Bachman. It was _never_ too late. He checked his clock: 3:10. Didn’t Bighead say that they were getting picked up at 3:30? There was still a little time.

He ran out of the dorm, down the hall, down the stairs and burst outside. Erlich sped toward the parking lot, only tripping over a few people and pushing a few others to the side in his haste. Finally he saw them; Bighead was leaning over Richard, showing him something on his stupid little phone, and Richard was sitting on his luggage, stupidly, like a goddamn idiot. Erlich came to an abrupt stop right in front of him and, before anybody could say anything, he shoved against Richard’s shoulder.

“What the fuck?! That’s not a goddamn goodbye!”

“I told you,” Bighead said from somewhere to his left; Erlich couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to him right now, though.

“I know,” Richard said, quietly, _stupidly._ “I know, I fucking _know_.”

“Then why?! What kind of shithead _does_ that?" 

“The shithead that _likes_ you, stupid,” he said, and then he surprised exactly no one by reaching up and pulling Erlich down into the most awkward, misaligned kiss of his life. Erlich grunted and pulled back. They stared at each other for a moment, Richard looking panicked and light he might piss his pants right then and there. What a goddamn _idiot_ , really, what a goddamn beautiful, gorgeous, likeable, _lovable_  idiot.

“ _You’re_ stupid,” Erlich retorted, and then he pulled Richard up to his feet, threw an arm around his back and kissed him like it was raining outside and his name was goddamn Darcy. It was really, _really_ good, he thought as he softly took Richard apart using only his lips. Richard eventually moved to circle Erlich’s neck with his arms, and if Erlich looked he was fairly certain that he was even doing the ankle pop.

They only stopped when the sound of an iPhone taking a photo was heard, and then several more, all at once. Erlich pulled back but didn’t even look to see who was taking the photos. He was pleased to find that Richard didn’t take the time to look, either.

“Why did you wait?” Richard asked, softly.

“I wanted to finish iAviate first. Be really worthy of you or something.” 

“Stupid,” Richard said fondly. “You’re already worthy. Besides, iAviate is the worst name I’ve ever heard. Anything would be better than that. 'Airplane App' is better. 'uFly.' ‘Aviato.’” 

“Hey, that’s not bad,” Erlich murmured, then grinned. He placed a few more kisses to Richard’s mouth, thinking that maybe he could make up for months of wasted time in only a few moments. He didn’t, he _couldn’t_ , but it didn’t matter; they had wasted enough time, but he knew that he wouldn’t waste a goddamn second from here on out. 

 

———————————————

 

**Epilogue: Fall, 2008**

Erlich was being fucking _tested_ when he truly, honestly, did not deserve it. He had put in his time as a student ambassador–unofficial, but still legit–by staying on campus the previous year as a junior in student housing. Now that he was finally living off-campus with his beautiful, infuriating, frustrating, genius boyfriend, Richard Hendricks, it really _should_ be easier from there on out. And yet.

“I can’t believe you think this fucking _domestic_ champagne is suitable to celebrate our living together,” Erlich said while shaking his head. “We might as well drink some goddamn Martinelli’s sparkling cider.”

“Shut up,” Richard said while grinning and struggling to open the bottle. “Now let’s drink to us and then we can go christen the apartment.” 

“Anything for you,” Erlich sighed. “Your bad taste is my cross to bear.”


End file.
